AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hugo
Today, work was therapeutic. I always preferred when it was busy because I could switch my head off and not think. Everything automatically fell into gridlines in my brain, to-do lists meshing effortlessly alongside the words coming out of my mouth as I kicked the bin back under my desk and pulled out my backup laptop.
Our computer network was down again, and some kind of electrical failure on the mezzanine floor had blown a whole set of fuse boxes.Not that it mattered because we had backups. I flicked the laptop on and tapped my phone to connect it to the hotspot, brought the booking system up and sighed with relief as everything started to load.
“You good?” Eddie asked. He was the manager on duty, and Finn was somewhere too, along with that guy from IT whose name I could never remember.
“All good.” I nodded as my phone rang for the hundredth time in an hour. It was Mrs Arndale, who was back from her surgery and once again covered in bandages, demanding assistance in hanging up something on something—I could barely make out her mumbles. But Reuben was in the middle of something else, damn it. I had stuff to do, and I really couldn’t leave my desk.
“Eddie?” I called after him. “Can you send one of the girls up to Mrs Arndale? No idea what she wants, but she’s called twice already.”
“No can do,” Eddie called from halfway across the lobby. “Amy needs to leave early so I’ve gotta send two people on lunch now or else…” He shrugged and continued on his way. Yeah, he didn’t have to spell it out.
I unplugged the laptop and stuck it back in the drawer. We never left anything unattended because this was a big hotel with lots of people everywhere, and things went missing all the time. I never even left my phone out.
The floor was pristine, all my rubbish neatly stacked in the bin. I didn’t know what was wrong with me all of a sudden, but I was doing strange things I’d never done before.
Some things were changing. Others, not at all. I wasn’t going to this concert tonight for one thing. A: I didn’t even like Blitz. B: concerts were not my thing. C: everyone would be disappointed if I came along and stood there like an imbecilic twat as I always did in situations I couldn’t control.
And yes, I was well aware I was giving in to my insecurities and compulsive thoughts, and I was better than that. Way better. I’d handled Mabel’s group thing, hadn’t I? Well, apart from the panic attack and spilled tea and the small part I’d omitted about crying in the toilets and almost choking on the dry biscuit I’d unsuccessfully tried to eat. I hated biscuits. Apart from those small, square ones up at the rooftop bar, and now I was having really crazy thoughts of popping up there after seeing Mrs Arndale and begging Claire for biscuits.
Told you. Strange things. And there was something wrong with my stomach, too. It was grumbling. My stomach never grumbled.
The lift opened, and I had to do a small twirl to avoid a guest, who was on his phone and pushed past me in his rush to escape. Yeah, mate. I would escape too if I had to stay here as a guest. I knew what lurked under the sheets in those beds, the bathroom glasses that never got cleaned, the sinks that were wiped down with the same towel as the toilet seat, not to mention that the local fumigators were camping out on floor six, dealing with an unfortunate infestation of critters that made my skin crawl just thinking about it. Luckily, Mrs Arndale was staying in her usual suite on the tenth floor, which was just across from the lifts. I knocked, plastering my most cheery smile on my face as the door swung open.
“Mrs Arn…” I started and then bit my tongue.
“I was trying to hang up my out…out…fit,” she slurred.
“Mrs Arndale, you need to sit down,” I advised, my hand scrambling in my jacket, trying to reach the radio clipped onto my belt, at the same time as I had to catch her mid-stumble. She honestly looked horrific. Her skin, where I could see it, was grey, and blood had soaked through on one side of the bandages around her face. I was suddenly overwhelmed by a rush ofnausea. I’d seen way too much blood in my life, and other people’s freaked me out.
“Hugo to Stewart,” I barked down the line.
“No ambulance,” Mrs Arndale whispered. “My husband will be so cross with me. He’s away on business, and I just wanted a little…touch-up.”
“Hugo to Stewart,” I repeated, manhandling Mrs Arndale towards the bed. I tried to look at the other side of her face, and it was horrible. Whatever she’d had done must’ve been infected because she was burning up and her skin tone… It made me want to throw up. It really did because I recognised the grey. I’d looked grey at times. Greyer than grey. So many mornings, I’d woken up and tried to convince myself I didn’t look unwell, when my skin had been greyer than Mrs Arndale’s. It brought up memories I didn’t want to think about. But it also made me realise there were people in the world who were much more fucked up than me, and at the back of my head, I’d started to see things. I didn’t like it. I really didn’t.
“Hugo to Stewart. Can you please fucking please get an ambulance to the Prince Louis suite? Like…NOW?” I shouted as Mrs Arndale went limp. Yeah, fuck. My language was atrocious but I was…stressed. Fucking stressed.
I punched in the emergency code in my radio and yanked the door open, hoping there would a housekeeper somewhere in the vicinity. Anyone, so I didn’t have to do this alone. Nope. The corridor was deserted. I propped the door open and hurled myself back to the bed, still barking into the radio for help.
“Mrs Arndale?!” I had first-aid training. I pushed her chin up, opening her airway, and listened. Shallow breaths whined out of her mouth as my heartskipped another beat. Bloody human beings, vanity and operations where none were needed and look at her now!
“Hugo?”
Oh, thank fuck. Here was Reuben, and he was dragging one of the housekeepers along. Jumping onto the bed, he slapped Mrs Arndale hard on the shoulder.
“Marjorie!” he shouted. “The fuck, Hugo! We really need one of the girls up here. We’re three blokes and she’s out cold.”
The housekeeper nodded. Another male, and yeah, it would look bad, but at least she was breathing.
“Ambulance is on its way,” came a voice over the radio. I couldn’t even make out who it was. My head was too fuzzy to function.
“Oh, and Hugo? Finn was looking for you. Some shit going on down by the door…” whoever it was said, but I was barely listening.
“Marjorie! Come on, Marjorie, talk to me. It’s me, Reubs. Your favourite doorman, remember?”
A groan. Thank God for that. Mrs Arndale grimaced and tried to sit up.
